


After Neverland: Wendy, the Lost Girl

by silvanstarlight (musingwriter)



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Depression, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 02:25:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3919357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musingwriter/pseuds/silvanstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is life like for Wendy when she returns from Neverland? Will she ever be the same? Will she ever forgive Peter?</p><p>(a series of drabbles based of the mix "after neverland")</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Neverland: Wendy, the Lost Girl

_“Oh, Peter, I can dream no more, I’ve been chasing all of yours, I’ve forgotten what it was that I wanted”  
_**—“Peter,”**  Daughter

***

Night fell swiftly, as it seemed to do much more frequently nowadays, and Wendy looked out at the street below as she secured the latch on the window. The streetlamps created pools of yellow light on the sidewalks, trailing only so far before darkness won out. She paused before tugging the curtains closed as well, not caring to wonder about who or what could be peering in on her as she slept.

Her bed was soft, inviting, and she settled down into it before glancing at the dish of pills on her nightstand. With a sigh, she reached for both them and the water and stared at them before tucking the pills under her mattress and gulping down the water. Wendy would take care of actually disposing of the pills in the morning, but for now the bed would have to do. She put the glass back on the table and switched out the light, bathing the room in darkness.

Wendy was an awful sleeper. Always had been. Only now, in the few months she’d been home, it’d become worse. Tonight, like most nights, she drifted in and out of sleep, vaguely conscious of the fact she wasn’t sleeping well and trying very hard to correct it. Branches brushed against her window, making a _tap, tap, tap_ noise that jolted her awake. 

“It’s just the trees,” she murmured to herself.

_Tap, tap, tap._

“Trees,” she whispered again, this time very little conviction.

_Tap. Tap tap. Taptaptap._

She threw off the bedcovers and strode toward the window. Shoving the curtains aside and unlatching the window, she leaned out into the night nearly shouting, “Leave me alone!”

Slamming the window shut she went back to her bed and sat, arms crossed across her chest in a huff. Realising she hadn’t secured the lock on the window, she got up to fix it, only stopping as it creaked slowly open.

“Aw, come on Wendy... come home. We miss you.”

Wendy paled. “Not this time Peter. It’s time...” she swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “It’s time for me to grow up.”

“Grow up!” The boy exclaimed, actually sticking his head through the window.

“Quiet!” Wendy shushed, moving toward him.

“Why would you ever want to grow up?” He asked, a little softer.

“Because one of us has to, and it’s not going to be you.”

“Who says we have to? Who says we have to grow up? I’ll fight ‘em! It doesn’t make any sense... growing up. Who said it it? I’ll make them wish they’d never said it.”

“Oh now Peter-“ Wendy started.

“No I will, I swear I’ll fight ‘em. Just let me at ‘em.”

“Peter no.”

“Why not, Wendy? I’ll fight anyone who says that. Especially to you. Now who says you have to grow up? Let me at ‘em.”

“I say it, Peter. You going to fight me?” Wendy asked, looking at him.

“What?” He asked, dropping the window frame. It fell on his head with a loud thump and he winced, pushing it back up.

“I came to it on my own,” the girl said softly. “There’s no life for me on Neverland. All that about talk about never growing up is all well and good but you’re old Peter. I can see it in your eyes. And you won’t grow up but you’ll grow older and older and I don’t want that.”

“Well then what do you want, if you’re so smart and _grown up_?” Peter spat at her, the final two words almost smacking her in the face.

“I don’t know.”

“Awful lot of good that does you then.”

“Peter...”

“Bye Wendy. Have fun growing up. I’ll leave you alone.”

The window slammed behind him and Wendy jumped. She went to relatch the window and sighed. “That’s what you said last week.” Leaving the curtains open this time, she went back to bed, drifting along until she was finally asleep.

***

But the next week the tapping on her window was just the trees, and the same the week after that. After three weeks, Wendy started to panic. She had told herself that she’d never go back to Neverland but Peter had still come for her and there was a kind of security in that. The early weeks when they didn’t fight, they’d sit on the end of her bed and he’d tell her all that had happened since she’d been gone. But he’d grown restless and she’d grown tired and now he’d left for good and she hadn’t got to say goodbye. She stopped latching the window and the nights got worse and her mother, worried about the tired eyes of her daughter, made her take her medicine under supervision.

Her parents sent her to doctors who discussed her state in hushed whispers and Wendy learned to stop talking about the lost boy who visited her at the window.

The lost boy... adrift in the stars and sea but found in his own way. Peter knew what he wanted: to never grow up. But Wendy... She was lost in a haze of London fog and daze of medicine, unsure of where she was going or what she wanted out of life. And so she barrelled along, crashing and burning in spectacular fashions, reckless and heartbroken and unsure why she was doing what she was doing except that it made her feel alive. It made her feel old and young at the same time.

Wendy no longer felt the need to grow up, Peter had made sure of that.

**Author's Note:**

> the fanmix this fic is based on can be found here: http://tinyurl.com/afterneverlandmix


End file.
